The Problem With Rumors
by bluesnowflake44
Summary: After a shocking rumor is spread at school, life between Casey and Derek will never be the same. Dasey. Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This fic was born partially from my overwhelming joy after seeing the episode "Tuesday Afternoon Fever." If you haven't seen it yet, you're missing out. :) No spoilers, I promise.

Essentially, this story is just a dash of Truman-bashing and a healthy dose of fluffy, Dasey goodness.

Chapter 1

_**Emily**_

Casey gasped and took a deep breath, obviously trying to calm herself down. "The test dates for senior year are up!" she squealed to her best friend, jumping up and down with joy.

"Great," said Emily, frowning, "thanks for ruining a perfectly decent day." But she couldn't help grinning at the resurgence of scholarly enthusiasm in Casey's happiness.

"What? '…ruining a perfectly decent day'?" said Casey, cocking her head in confusion. "But this is a _good_ thing!"

Rolling her eyes, Emily replied, "Riiiiight…"

A figure appeared at their sides, and Emily's guydar blared warnings in her head. "Squealing over me, Case?" a familiar voice asked in Casey's ear, before nipping at her earlobe. Emily groaned to herself. Casey laughed and batted her boyfriend away.

"Dream on, Truman," she said, grinning. "You're almost as conceited as my step-brother." _Much more, actually_, Emily thought.

"But much more attractive," he chuckled, flashing the girls a grin.

Emily rolled her eyes. "Actually, _Truman_, according to my research data, the female population of JSTH begs to differ. Overwhelming consensus is that Derek is far better looking." She paused and sneered (unable to help herself), "The _male_ population, however, finds you quite appealing…"

"That's disgusting," cried Truman. He leaned over to kiss Casey's lips, lingering far too long for Emily's tastes. _Maybe he's trying to assert his so-called manliness or something_, Emily thought. She grabbed her friend's sleeve and tugged her away.

"Later, Truman," she said over her shoulder, pushing Casey into the girl's bathroom. "So," she asked her best friend once they were safely inside, "when are you going to dump Truman? He's no good for you, Casey. You deserve so much better."

"Well, Truman's not so bad," Casey said, not meeting Emily's eyes.

"Uh, _yeah_, he really is."

"It was sweet of him to get me back into my fencing class for gym. And put up with my 'perfect' date prank."

"Whatever, Casey," Emily declared, "I think the bell's about to ring anyway. See you around." She gave her friend a brief hug and left the bathroom, shaking her head. _I've __**got**__ to do something about this_, she thought. _And fast_.

_**Casey**_

As Emily left the bathroom, Casey turned to face herself in the mirror. She _looked_ like Casey. Wasn't she still herself? Truman was… well, he was Truman. She knew that she'd made a mistake in dating Max (she'd lost her sense of self), but Truman just encouraged her fiery personality and challenged her wit. Who _else_ did that sort of thing?

Suddenly, she felt someone bump into her from behind. Spinning around, Casey felt her eyes widen in annoyance at discovering who it was. "Derek!" she screeched, shoving him away from her. He'd been playing catch in the hallways again, and had bumped into her… _again_. This sort of thing always happened.

"Oops, didn't see you there," he said, shooting her a grin. Casey pushed down the flare of excitement that formed in her chest at the thought that his smile was directed at _her_. She hated Derek. She couldn't believe that the girls at her High school had deemed _him_ more attractive than Truman. Pah! Derek may have better hair and a sexier smirk—wait, _no he didn't_. Truman was much better looking. Of course he was. He _had_ to be. Casey didn't find Derek attractive at all. He was her step-brother after all.

"Looks like _you're_ the one who's become the klutzilla of the family," Casey snapped at him, giving him a brief shove away from her.

Derek just laughed. "Gee, _sis_, are you sure you aren't just confusing your fantasies with reality? Doesn't that happen a lot when I'm involved?" He tossed the ball at her head, and the foamy surface bounced against her forehead.

"De-REK!" He was outright guffawing now, and Ralph had a smile on his face. "You are NOT in my fantasies! And stop calling me 'sis.' It's an insult to my genetic make-up."

"Well, if your genetic make-up is anything like the crap you put on your face, then I'd say that my being in your family is actually beneficial to your genes."

Casey huffed in exasperation and gave him a huge shove away. A group of freshman had gathered around them, clearly looking confused and uncertain at what was going on. One girl had stars in her eyes as she gazed at Derek, a fact that just made Casey even angrier.

"Shut up, Derek, and go back to the pigsty where you belong," Casey snapped, crossing her arms.

Tossing the ball up and down, Derek's mouth twisted up in a mischievous smirk. He looked over and winked at the star-struck freshman girl, then aimed the ball at Casey's chest. It hit her and bounced away, falling to the ground at Derek's feet.

"Right on, D!" Ralph cried in congratulations, high-fiving his friend. Derek returned the high-five and patted Casey's arm before waltzing away.

Casey stood fuming at her step-brother as the crowd of freshman started to disperse. A short, brown-haired girl approached her and asked boldly, "Who _was_ that?" It was the girl who'd been gazing at Derek with adoration.

"A waking nightmare," Casey replied, not tearing her eyes away from the retreating form of Derek.

"Is he your ex?" the freshman chirped. "Is he single now?"

At this, Casey looked down at the girl. She was pretty and had a scattering of freckles across her nose. "He's my step-brother, and don't even bother."

"Ohhh," the girl replied, raising an eyebrow and grinning as though sharing a personal joke with herself. "I get it."

"You get what?" Casey demanded, feeling her heartbeat quicken for some reason.

"You're carrying the torch for him, huh? But he doesn't know it? That's the rumor going around school, anyway."

"_What?!_" gasped Casey, grabbing onto her locker to support herself. "That's just—how could I—I have a boyfriend, you know!"

"Truman French?" the small brunette asked, raising the other eyebrow. "Last time I checked, he was just a less-attractive, more obnoxious version of Derek Venturi."

"Why, you little—" But before Casey could continue, the bell rang and everyone bustled to get to class. The freshman girl disappeared into the crowd and Casey sighed, wishing her pulse would slow to a more normal pace.

_**Derek**_

Derek found himself whistling as he entered the front door of his house. It had been a good day. Despite the freezing wind and the thin layer of snow coating the ground, a smile graced his lips. He'd out-witted Casey (_again_), he'd escaped being caught playing catch in the hallway, and he'd managed to get out of doing at least two assignments (thanks to his skills of persuasion). But best of all was the rumor that he'd heard going around school. It was a rumor about Casey and her apparent "infatuation" with him. Although he was sure it was false, it still offered him an incredible amount of leeway over her. The only bad part of the day had been when he'd been told that Truman wanted to have a little "chat" with him about said rumor. Great. Just the thing he wanted: a chat with Truman about Casey.

Hanging up his leather jacket, he started to smirk as he planned out when to best use the rumor against Casey. Perhaps he would exit the show with only a towel around his waist. Or maybe he could burst in on her room unannounced. If he was really evil, he could bring it up at dinner, but Derek quickly decided against that option. It might make for some serious awkwardness around the entire family.

In the end, Derek decided to let the circumstances determine when and how to best bring up the topic of her supposed "crush" on him. He wondered who'd spread the rumor in the first place. It was unlikely that it was Sam; Ralph might have had something to do with it, but that seemed unlikely as well. Maybe it was one of Casey's friends. Derek didn't know, and he didn't really care. The important thing was that there _was_ a rumor, and that he could use it to gain leverage against Casey.

Said person finally bumbled into the house, carrying two projects that had been graded over the break along with her regular amount of school things. Derek smirked as he watched Casey stumbled over the front step; he was surprised that she hadn't tripped and fallen on her face yet.

"Derek!" she whined, her voice shrill with annoyance, "Aren't you going to offer to help me?"

He paused, as if seriously considering her question, then said, "Hmm, nope. It's much more fun to watch you struggle."

She groaned in exasperation and finally managed to set her things on the table. Brushing her hair out of her face, she pursed her lips and faced him. "Truman's coming over for dinner," she said, "So please behave tonight."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Great. And I'd considered this a good day not a moment before."

"Well, tough luck, because he's coming over whether you like it or not."

Irritated, Derek stomped up to his room and logged onto his computer, musing over the situation. As he thought, a small smirk formed on his lips. He had a plan.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to those who reviewed! I really appreciate feedback. Enjoy chapter 2. :)

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Chapter 2

_**Derek**_

"Derek! Dinner!" his father called from downstairs. Derek exited his instant messenger program with Sam and repressed an evil grin. It was almost time to put his plan to use.

"What're we having?" he asked Nora as she set the table. "Please tell me it's something that _you_ prepared."

She smiled. "Actually, Truman and Casey made spaghetti and meatballs for us. Wasn't that sweet of them?"

Derek stared at her a moment, then asked, "Do you expect me to find that cute?"

Nora just shook her head, still smiling, and went to get more napkins. Casey came out of the kitchen at that moment with the cheese grater. She barely glanced at him, so Derek said, "Have fun playing housewife with Truman?"

"Yes, I did, thanks." She was still not looking at him. Derek wondered if she was trying to give him the cold shoulder, to play the "polite" card now that her boyfriend was over. This was not ok. It was time to put his plan into action.

"Bet you wish it had been me in there with you instead of Truman, huh?" he wondered.

Casey froze, her body going rigid. So she _had_ heard about the rumor, too! _Perfect_.

"I don't know what you mean," she said stiffly.

"Aw, come on, Case," Derek said with nonchalance, going over to stand next to her and draping a hand around her shoulders. "You know you're into me."

Her eyes flashed up to meet his, and Derek's breath involuntarily caught at how blue they looked against her thick, black lashes. The barb he had meant to say was forgotten.

Just then Truman waddled into the room. Casey tugged out of Derek's grasp and went to stand next to Truman. "Hey, sweetie," she said, smiling up into his eyes.

"Hey, sexy," he responded, leaning down and pressing his mouth against hers, his hand curling around to wrap around her lower back in a way that Derek suddenly found way too inappropriate for his liking.

"So, Truman," he said, "Enjoying yourself?"

Truman broke away from Casey reluctantly and gave Derek a suspicious scowl. "What's it to you?"

"Oh, no reason."

Truman flashed Derek a smirk that mocked all that a true smirk should represent. "Look, sorry that I nabbed the hottest girl in school, man," said Truman. "But I'm sure there are plenty of other girls who are half as pretty as she is for you to play with."

Derek felt his mouth drop open. Had the guy just insulted him? _Him_? Derek Venturi? He was obviously crazy.

"Doesn't the table look lovely!" Nora exclaimed, entering with the napkins. "Marti, are you done cleaning yourself up?" She turned to the teenagers and said, "Marti spilled some marinara sauce on her shirt, but we got things all cleaned up, don't worry."

Derek grunted in response and sank into his chair across from Truman, glaring the entire time.

"Truman, would you like some broccoli?" Casey asked, her voice more chipper than usual. Derek was smug to see that she refused to meet his eyes.

"Sure." He grinned vapidly around at the table. With horror, Derek realized that his family and step-family was staring at him with adoration (Marti and Edwin even looked impressed).

"It's not every day that you see a growing boy eat broccoli," Casey stated with pride, as if Truman was an award-winning specimen that she had created.

"Pass the broccoli," Derek said before he realized what he was doing.

All eyes turned to look at him, and all expressions were of disbelief. Derek resisted the urge to gulp. "I—uh—like broccoli." The statement was lame even to his ears.

Suddenly Casey's eyes snapped. Something hard jammed into Derek's shin and he cried, "Ow!" She'd kicked him.

"Cut it out!" she hissed.

"Fine," he told her, then faced the family. "May I be excused? I'm feeling _sick_."

It wasn't far from the truth.

_**Casey**_

"Thanks for coming to dinner, Truman!" beamed Casey at her boyfriend later that night. Everyone had gone to bed, although the hour wasn't very late. "It was great having you over."

"Well, so long as you're there, I'd go anywhere. You're so hot." Truman leaned down to press a kiss to Casey's neck. She waited while he gently nibbled at her skin, enjoying the sensation and only cringing once when he bit her too hard. "Sorry, babe," he murmured. "I know we practiced."

"It's ok." His lips met her own and Casey kissed him goodnight. It was a wonderful kiss. It was. Really. Honestly. Truly. Your pulse didn't have to pound and your skin didn't have to tingle for something to be considered a good kiss.

After Truman left, Casey traipsed upstairs to her room. She glanced at Derek's closed door, the "KEEP OUT" sign glaring at her. A wave of panic washed over her as she remembered anew that Derek had heard the rumor that she liked him. _Liked_ him. She shivered and rubbed her arms in an attempt to comfort herself. This needed to be dealt with. She knocked on his door.

"What?" she heard him ask.

"Can—can we talk?"

There was a pause. Suddenly the door opened and Derek stood in front of her, wearing a pair of green, plaid pajama pants and a grey T-shirt. Casey swallowed, trying not to notice how casual his attire was or how his auburn hair looked tousled in a very attractive way….

"Yeah?" he demanded, looking ornery.

Taking a deep breath, Casey said, "Look, Derek, I know you might have heard some… some _rumors_ at school that—that—well, you know. I just wanted to clarify that they are definitely and completely _not true_." There. She'd said it. Now if only Derek would stop smirking down at her.

"That what you told Truman?" he asked at last, leaning against the doorframe in a way that made Casey's heartbeat quicken.

"Why? Jealous?" Casey asked, crossing her arms.

Derek continued to smirk down at her. "I thought we were done talking about your fantasies."

Eyes widening, Casey uncrossed her arms and gave him a rough shove, barely moving him. Derek laughed and quickly righted himself, setting his hands on Casey's shoulders in faux pity. "Casey, Casey, Casey," he drawled, "When will you ever learn? Shoving me is _not_ going to make me go away."

Scowling, Casey seethed, "Well, it helps take the edge off of my frustration." She tried to shrug out of his grip, but Derek only took a step closer.

"Maybe you should work on taking the edge off in a different way."

Despite her best intentions, Casey felt her body grow hot and tingly. _Oh no,_ she thought, _what exactly is happening to me?_ She squirmed, hoping to rid herself of this inappropriate feeling, but this only seemed to encourage Derek. He leaned down slightly, his breath hot on her cheek and smelling like cinnamon, and asked in a low voice, "Something wrong, Casey?"

It took all of her willpower to force the groan that started to escape from her lips into a gasp of supposed outrage. "Derek!" she hissed, although her knees felt weak.

He laughed and backed away. "You know, Case, you're _way_ too fun to mess with." Whistling, he turned around and entered his room, shutting the door. Casey stood in the hallway, urging her heartbeat to soften and the heat in her body to fade. If she ever found that little freshman brat who put the idea in her head that she was attracted to her step-brother, well… the kid was going _down_.

_xxxxxxxxxxxx_

She couldn't sleep. It was so aggravating. Blinking, Casey glanced at her clock. 3:47am. This was ridiculous.

Pushing back the covers, Casey slid out of her bed and grabbed a movie from her shelf, thinking that she would just watch it for a little while downstairs. Sometimes that helped her to fall asleep.

She opened her bedroom door and crept into the hallway and was surprised to see that there was still a light on under Derek's door. Casey paused, unsure of her next action. Part of her knew that she should just turn around and get right back into bed, but a bigger part wanted to knock on Derek's door. It would probably annoy him anyway.

So she did. There was a moment of silence, then Derek opened his door, looking wide awake and no longer in his pajamas.

"What?" he hissed, sounding extremely annoyed. He had on nice clothes. Clothes that he usually wore on….

"Derek!" Casey cried in annoyance. "What are you doing?"

He grinned at her and opened his door wider. "Don't worry, no one's here, honey-munchkins," he sing-sang. "I'm not double-crossing you. I just went out with Sam and Ralph to a party earlier."

Casey gasped at his impertinence, and squashed the butterflies in her stomach. "Derek," she hissed, stalking over to him and jabbing a finger into his chest, "listen, you've _got_ to stop joking about—" She cut herself off, unable to say it.

"About what?" The smirk was there. _How… unfortunate._

"About—about—about the completely made-up rumor that I _like_ you, romantically or in any other way."

"You're blushing."

"What? I am _not_."

"Yeah, you are. It's pretty obvious."

Casey narrowed her eyes. "Well, if I am, it's only because this is an awkward conversation."

"So… you're awkward in my presence now, huh?" Derek shook his head in mockery.

"Ohhhh! Derek! You're twisting all my words and—and—it's flustering me!"

"I thought your physical attraction to me was what flustered you."

"You know what?!" spat Casey, an idea occurring to her. "This would be less weird if you hadn't gone all spastic about the broccoli at dinner!"

"Yes, well, that was a momentary loss of sanity at the thought that my _rival_ was getting under the family's skin and I wasn't."

Now it was Casey's turn to smirk. "Ha! You're blushing now, too."

"In your dreams, Casey."

"No, you _are._ And what's this about a _rival_? Is it a romantic rival? Maybe the rumors got it wrong, maybe it's _you_ who likes _me_!"

Derek's hand shot out and grabbed her arm. "That's disgusting," he whispered, his face inches from her own. "We're step-siblings."

As soon as he'd grabbed her arm, any feeling of anger had faded away. Casey's arm burned where his hand touched it. "I know," she whispered back, staring up into his brown eyes.

"You're a grade-grubber and a klutz," he said softly.

"And you're a slacker and a—"

"—ladies' man?" he interrupted, grinning.

Casey tried to scowl, but a smile tugged at her mouth. "I was going to say 'misogynist,' actually."

"Well, I don't even know what that means, so how can I be one?"

Rolling her eyes, Casey gave him a tiny shove against his chest. "Oh, Derek," she exclaimed in exasperation, "stop fooling around."

"Fine," he murmured, raising an arm and resting it against the doorframe above his head. Casey felt her body tense at the way his long body stretched out tantalizingly before her. She wondered if he was doing this on purpose.

"What did you do at the party?" she demanded, trying for nonchalance.

Derek waved a hand. "French kissing not something that grade-grubbers should concern themselves with."

Casey narrowed her eyes. "Good-night, Derek." She stalked out of his room and back to her own. To her annoyance (and, perhaps, to her anticipation) he followed her.

"Jealous?" he asked, and she clenched her jaw to think that he was throwing her own question back in her face.

"Of what?" she replied, turning to face him. "The party guests who were glorified by your presence? Hardly."

"I meant of the girls I made out with." He stood right in front of her, his arms crossed. Although he had a smug, teasing look in his eyes, Casey perceived something more intense there, too.

"No." She started to turn away to organize something—anything—on her desk.

There was a pause. "Not at all?" he breathed.

"Not at all," she responded, but she didn't meet his eyes. "Now, I've got to—to—sleep. You know the way out."

She continued fiddling with already-neat stacks of papers on her desk. She was about to look up and see if he had left when she felt something brush the hair away from her neck. "G'night, Casey," Derek whispered close to her ear, then disappeared.

It was a long, long time before Casey even considered falling asleep that night.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hope you're all enjoying the story. I love writing Dasey stories and I love to read them. If I had my way I'd be a writer for the show, and guess what I'd have happen? :P

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Chapter 3

_**Ralph**_

"And that's when I totally dodged the baseball!" Ralph exclaimed, grinning at his best friends. Sam returned the grin and high-fived him

"Nice, man," he said. Ralph turned to Derek, but his other friend didn't seem to be listening.

"Earth to Derek," he said, snapping his fingers in front of Derek's face. "You in there, buddy?"

"Huh?" said Derek, blinking and looking vaguely confused. "What?"  
"Checking out the competition again?" Sam grinned at Derek, and Ralph was confused at the knowing look on Sam's face. He followed their gazes and saw Derek's step-sister chatting with her no-good boyfriend, Truman.

"Aw, man, I hate that guy," Ralph complained. "It's too bad your step-sis has to be dating him. She could do so much better." Derek didn't rip his gaze off of the couple. "She could be dating _me!_" Ralph joked.

"Dude," Sam said, laying a hand on Ralph's shoulder. "Not a good time."

"Wha—?" Ralph asked, looking from Sam to Derek to the couple. Derek looked oddly concerned as he watched Casey and Truman laughing together. Ralph wondered why Derek would be upset about Casey's boyfriend. If Truman was off the market, it made things that much easier for Derek. _Unless…_

"OHH!" Ralph cried, grinning that he'd figured it out. "You're jealous, D!"

Derek turned his eyes to Ralph and snapped, "Wha—me? Jealous?" He laughed nervously… a little _too_ nervously, and added, "Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Casey's laughter drifted over to them, and Derek made a face. Then he slammed his locker shut and stalked away.

Ralph scratched his head. "Dude, what's up with _him_?"

Sam just shook his head. "Derek's in denial. And he's going to make the rest of us suffer until that Truman guy gets out of the picture."

"Riiight," Ralph said, nodding. "So… got a plan?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. Derek's not the only one who can come of with a scheme." Sam smiled mischievously. "If you're willing to help out, that is."

Ralph just grinned.

_**Casey**_

"So you really like Virginia Woolf?" Truman was asking, leaning against the locker next to hers.

Casey laughed. "Of course. And you really don't like reading… at all?"

Truman didn't reply, only leaned down to kiss her. "I like you," he said.

Grinning into the kiss, Casey opened her mouth to deepen it. That was when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"What?" she asked.

"Casey, can you give me a hand?" Ralph asked her, wearing a worried expression on his face.

Casey huffed. "Can't you ask the wonderful Derek for help?" she queried sarcastically.

Ralph shook his head and said, "That's the problem. Derek's in a bad mood, and Sam seems to have disappeared."

"Fine," Casey replied and turned to follow Ralph. "See you later!" she told Truman. He just wiggled his eyebrows.

As Casey followed Ralph down the hall, she thought she saw Sam's form rush by her in the direction of Truman. How odd….

"Derek's in here," Ralph told her, approaching the boy's bathroom.

"I can't go in there," Casey said, coming up short. "I am a _girl_ in case you haven't noticed."

Ralph grinned at her. "Oh, I've noticed, Casey. But Derek needs your help."

Casey let out an exasperated groan. "All right, all right." She went inside.

There was no one there. "Ralph?" she asked, turning around. "I don't see—"

Ralph was gone. "Ralph!" Casey cried, going to the door. It wouldn't open. If Casey didn't know better, she would've guessed that Ralph was holding it closed.

"Truman? Is that you?" a soft voice asked. Casey froze, her entire body tensing up at the intimate way that the feminine voice called Truman's name. As if they were supposed to meet here. On a regular basis.

"What's going—Oh!!" a tall blond with gorgeous curly hair and perfect features had exited a bathroom stall, but at the sight of Casey she had halted. "You're not Truman," she said stupidly. "You're—oh my God."

"Who are you?" Casey choked out, although she already knew.

"I'm—I'm no one. I think I went into the wrong bathroom. Isn't this the boy's bathroom?" she laughed nervously. "Whoops, my mistake. I'll just be leaving now." She tried the door, but it held fast. Ralph was stronger than Casey gave him credit for.

"Are you in here to meet Truman?" Casey demanded bluntly.

The girl didn't turn around from where she was attempting to open the door, but Casey saw her entire body freeze at the accusation.

"You _are_!" cried Casey, feeling more anger than betrayal. She couldn't believe it. Not that Truman would cheat on her, but that she—the rational, intelligent Casey McDonald—could have become so stupid as to think that Truman was a decent guy. How wrong she'd been. And what a waste of time the last two months had been.

Shoving past the blonde, Casey banged on the door. "Ralph, I get it," she yelled, feeling tears of self-hatred well up in her eyes. "I'm dumping Truman as soon as you let me out."

The door opened. For the first time in her life, Casey saw that Ralph looked sad. "I'm sorry, Casey," he told her, squeezing her shoulder in sympathy. Next to him, Sam stood clutching a wide-eyed and fearful-looking Truman.

"The culprit," said Sam, shoving Truman forward. Casey could barely stand to look at him.

"You bastard," she hissed at him, and shoved him back into the boy's bathroom with the unnamed blonde. "You don't deserve me." Yanking the door closed, she slid a broom between the door handles, locking Truman and the blonde in. "Now you can have all the fun you want together and no one will interrupt you!" she bellowed, before starting to cry.

She felt two, strong sets of arms wrap around her. It only made her cry more to know how supportive Sam and Ralph were. If he'd chosen such great people for his friends, he couldn't be so bad after all. She was past denying it now. She _definitely_ had a thing for her step-brother. She just wished he felt the same way.

_**Emily**_

"Casey, sweetie, you really need to stop beating yourself up over this," Emily said, stroking Casey's hair. They were in Casey's room, and Casey's head was resting on a pillow in Emily's lap. Kleenexes were strewn all over and there were pieces of half-eaten chocolates lying in their wrappers on her bed. Emily had never been happier to learn that Casey had broken up with Mr. Dumbass, but she still hated to see her best friend so sad.

"It's not—_hic_—that I miss Truman. It's that I'm just so—_hic_—frustrated with myself." Casey wiped away her tears and sat up, eating a piece of chocolate. "Ew," she cried a moment later. "I _hate_ coconut!" This only seemed to bring on a new bout of tears. Emily quickly removed all the coconut flavored truffles from Casey's grasp.

"Casey, you shouldn't blame yourself for this. You had no idea that Truman was such a douche bag. It's not your fault."

Shaking her head, Casey sniffled. "But I was so _stupid_ to ever want to—_hic_—date him in the first place!"

Emily made a face; she couldn't disagree with Casey there. But she simply shushed her friend and put in another movie into Casey's laptop. It was _Clueless_, one of Casey's favorite movies.

They mostly watched it in silence, until the end. The male lead, Josh, endearingly admitted his affection for his step-sister, Cher. As they leaned in for their adorable first kiss, Emily felt Casey start shuddering all over again. By the time the credits were rolling, the tears were flowing freely.

"Casey, what's wrong?" cried Emily, concerned. This movie had always made Casey feel better about _everything_.

"Why couldn't _he_ be as nice as Josh?" Casey snuffled.

Emily furrowed her brow. "What? Who?" she asked.

"I asked why Derek couldn't have been as nice as Josh."

Emily glanced down at her best friend in confusion. Maybe that coconut truffle had done something to her head….

"Thanks, Emily," Casey said suddenly, sitting up. "I feel much better now."

Although she was incredibly confused, Emily nodded, smiling. "That's great, Casey. I was only happy to hang out with you." It had been almost ten hours of her Saturday, but Emily knew that Casey would do the same for her if their situations had been reversed.

"I should probably do a little homework," Casey said, and glanced around her at all the wrappers and Kleenexes as though for the first time. "And a little cleaning, apparently." They both laughed, and Emily hugged her.

As she let herself out the front door, Emily couldn't help but wonder what Casey meant by her ambiguous comment about the movie and step-brothers and being nice.

_**Derek**_

Sam and Ralph had broken the news to him. Although Derek had known nothing about Truman's cheating, he found that he wasn't very surprised. The only thing that shocked him was that the scumbag would want to cheat on _Casey_. True, he wasn't… _personally_… attracted… to her (or anything like that). But he had to admit that to any _other _guy, she was probably a pretty decent girlfriend.

She'd been in her room all day with Emily, and from time to time he heard her crying, but Emily had left a half an hour ago and Derek felt compelled to check on Casey. After all, she _was_ his step-sister. It was his… duty.

He knocked on her door, something that he rarely did. "Come in," he heard her say. Upon entering, he raised his eyebrows to see how organized and neat the room looked compared to Casey herself. She looked forlorn. Almost… lost. It was uncomfortable to see her so out of sorts (and not due to his own teasing).

"Uh… you ok?" he asked, clearing the awkwardness from his throat.

She didn't look at him. "If you've come to rub things in," she said, "then go away." She was rearranging her desk supplies.

Derek was thoughtful for a moment, wondering what was going on in her head. "What're you doing?" he questioned at last.

"If you insist on knowing, I'm redoing my room. I don't like the person in me that ever decided that dating Truman was a good idea." She chucked a picture frame of her and Truman into a box on her floor. "Cleaning the clutter out of my room is my way of cleaning my mistakes out of myself."

"Oh." He swallowed, looking down at the box, stuffed with things that he could only assume reminded her of Truman… or the Casey that had wanted to date him.

"Do you… need anything?" he wondered. "A sedative? A ticket to a mental institution? What's with this bout of insanity you've got going on?"

"Nothing. I'm fine," she replied, taking down a stuffed giraffe from her shelf and shoving it in the box in front of him. After she'd given it an extra push, she stood upright, and their eyes met. Derek was surprised to see that her eyes were dry and not red-rimmed or swollen.

"You sure you're all right?" he asked, skeptical, as he stared down into her blue eyes. "You look… different." He had to look away, though, before his breath caught from how beautiful her eyes looked. What was the matter with him, anyway?

"I'm fine," she said again. "And what do you mean by 'different'?"

Derek rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "I only mean that you seem… older and more… confident or something. It's not a bad thing."

"Really?" he heard her ask, and he lifted his eyes to her face once more. She looked hopeful, and a small smile strained at her lips.

"Yeah," he replied, continuing to stare at how inviting those pink lips looked.

"Hey kids!" his dad's voice called from downstairs. "Dinner's ready!"

Startled, Casey took a quick breath in and lowered her gaze to the box at her feet. "Well, this is all going out to the trash. I'll see you in a jiffy, I guess."

"Ok," he said, and turned around to head down for dinner. His body felt both numb and tingly, and his blood was pounding in his ears. Derek shook his head to clear the confusion from his brain, wondering why it had suddenly stopped working.

What was going on with him?

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Thanks for reading; please review! It encourages my update speed. :)


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: So I'm feeling very generous and am posting TWO chapters today. If you love me, you'll review! This is just a shorter chapter, but I think you'll enjoy it. *smirks in a very Derek-like way*

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Chapter 4

_**Casey**_

"Casey, Derek—can you two do the dishes while George and I take the kids to a movie?" Nora asked.

Casey groaned inside her head. _Great, this is just what I need,_ she thought, _a night alone with __**Derek**_. But she pasted a smile on her face and replied, "Sure, mom. Have fun at the movies."

"Thanks, honey," Nora said, kissing the top of Casey's forehead as passed by the dining room table with her coat and purse. "Edwin? Lizzie? Marti? You three almost ready?"

Once the kids were gathered, the gang filed outside and George drove the car away into the night.

Silence reigned. Casey swore she heard a cricket chirp in mockery.

"So," Derek drawled, leaning back in his chair and patting his stomach. "Looks like you've got dishes to do."

Casey rolled her eyes and threw her napkin onto the table. "Funny, Derek, because I seem to remember my mom saying that we had to work _together_."

"Yeah… and I seem to remember that _us_ working _together_ doesn't happen. Ever." He pushed his empty plate toward her on the table. "Thanks for being such a great daughter, Case. Nora really raised you well."

Narrowing her eyes, Casey leapt up and glared at him from across the table. "I may be an overly-organized, grade-grubbing klutz," she hissed in anger, "but I am definitely _not_ a push-over." She stalked over to stand beside his chair. "Get up, Derek, or so help me I will shove your chair onto the floor with you in it."

Derek just laughed. "Yeah, right, Casey. Like you'd ever do something that would ruin the—HEY!" he cried as he went sailing backwards and landed solidly against the floor. "OW!"

Now it was Casey's turn to laugh. She retrieved a wet sponge from the sink and returned to Derek's side, squeezing out all the water onto his sprawled form. Then, still chuckling, she started clearing dishes.

Unfortunately, she didn't see Derek until it was too late. A second before his attack, she noticed what he was up to and had just enough time to set the dishes on the kitchen counter before Derek assailed her face with a spoonful of left-over pie. "Der-EK!" she screeched, holding up her hands to protect herself. "That is _so_ much worse than just getting water doused on you!"

"I could have gotten killed when you tipped my chair over!" he shot back, sending another spoonful of pie flying past her head.

"Yeah right! Stop being so melodramatic!"

"Good point," he sneered, "That's _your_ job, isn't it?"

Casey sucked in her breath in anger and snatched a piece of brownie up from Lizzie's plate. She held it above her head, poised to attack. "No one insults _me_," she cried, throwing the brownie at Derek, "and gets away with it!"

The brownie sailed right over him, and Casey's mouth fell open as he snatched up a bowl of George's half-eaten ice cream. "Good think I'm the athlete here," Derek snickered, "or else I'd be afraid." He flung a glob of ice cream her way, and it landed on her chin, stinging cold.

"ARGH!" Casey bellowed, running after him into the kitchen. "You're going to wish you'd died when I tipped over your chair, because I'm showing _no mercy_ now!"

Derek ran into the living room, leaping over the couch and holding a pillow up as he faced her. "Go ahead and try your best!" he hollered. "You're the klutz, not me!"

Casey barged over to him, ready to fight him with her hands if need be. As she reached him, she ripped the pillow away from him. Derek's face momentarily took on an expression of surprise, then quickly transformed into his infamous smirk. "Nice one, Case," he snarled. "Maybe you can join the seven-year-olds this year in the wrestling match."

He lurched down and grabbed her waist, hoisting her up over his shoulder. Despite her best attempts at struggling free, Casey found that she was trapped. It was so infuriating and… embarrassing. Suddenly Casey realized that her face was pressed against his lean back, their entire bodies touching. His hands seared the back of her thighs where he held her against him, and she felt her heartbeat increase to a flurried pounding. She hit his back with her hands, hoping he would let her go. It seemed to work; he dropped her onto the couch, holding her arms at her sides and smirking down at her.

"You lose," he said, blowing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. Casey's body started tingling as she watched the way mouth moved. At her intense scrutiny of his face, she felt Derek's grip tighten as he stared at her. It gave her an idea.

"I—I haven't lost yet," she muttered, opening her mouth slightly and running a tongue over her lips. She hoped her own hair wasn't too chaotic; the state of her appearance was vital for her plan. Shifting against the couch, she managed to slide her shirt up a little, revealing a sliver of skin above the hem of her jeans. Derek's jaw clenched, and Casey bit back a smirk of her own; the plan seemed to be working.

"Whaddyou mean?" he growled, and she lowered her eyes as she gazed from his toes and all the way up his body to his tousled hair.

Smiling, she bit down on her lip. "What I mean is," she murmured as his face inched closer to her own and his grip on her forearms loosened, "is that I've got you right where I want you." As she finished the sentence, she broke free of his grasp and spun him around so that _he_ was pressed against the couch. "Ha!" she exclaimed, triumphant. "Now we've switched places."

Derek just smirked. "Funny, McDonald, but you know that I'm stronger than you." He started to struggle away from her. Panicking, Casey sat down on his thighs, pressing her hands against his shoulders and leaning over him.

"Looks like _you_ lose," she sneered.

Suddenly she felt something against the waistband of her jeans. "Casey, Casey, Casey," Derek drawled, his hands fiddling with the hem above her hipbones. Tingles shot out from where he touched her. "If you'd wanted into my pants, all you had to do was _ask_." His hand brushed against her skin and Casey's entire body felt like it had burst into flame.

She leapt back faster than she'd known was possible, backing away as far as she could. "Y-you're _disgusting_, Derek," she stammered, feeling her face burn with a blush.

He snickered and shifted over so that he was sprawled out on his recliner. "Well, it worked didn't it?" Casey repressed a shiver as his eyes flickered to her waist and back up. "Nice panties, by the way. I should have guessed that you'd be the type to wear granny underwear."

Casey stopped backing away and crossed her arms, annoyed all over again. "They are _not_ grandmother underwear, I'll have you know!" She lifted her chin in an attempt to regain some pride. "They're plain, practical, cotton underwear."

Derek snorted, flicking on the T.V. with the remote. "Yeah, sure, Case. Same thing if you ask me. And—oh yeah—you _lose_ after all."

"_Fine_," she snapped, uncrossing her arms and turning around. "But this was just one round out of many. I'm sure I'll win the next one."

"Dream on, Casey. I'll just seduce you into letting me win again."

"De-REK!" she screeched, halfway up the stairs. "That is _not_ what happened!" She decided to ignore the blood racing through her veins as her heart quivered violently and her knees felt wobbly.

Derek just laughed and switched the channel to a hockey game.

_Well fine! _Casey growled inside her head. _If he's going to go __**there**__, then so will I! _She slammed her bedroom door shut and went to her closet, rifling through to find the perfect shirt for her next plan of action. Her fingers closed around a low-cut red camisole that Icky Vicky had given her last year for Christmas. She'd never worn it before, and had never imagined that it would see the light of day. But for what she had in mind, it would do very nicely. She grinned mischievously to herself. _Perfect_.

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A/N: Heeheehee. I love UST (unresolved sexual tension), especially when it revolves around Dasey! Review if you want more! :)


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_**Derek**_

He was almost through the hockey game when Casey came down the stairs. He barely glanced at her (the opposing team had just scored a goal, and he was grumbling at the TV in annoyance). She slunk over to the couch and sat down. He shot her a look; she was wearing a beige skirt that went halfway to her knees and an old, grey sweatshirt that she'd zipped up to almost her neck. Raising his eyebrows, he asked, "You ok? You look… weird." She swallowed, her expression looking pained. Nervous even.

"Yeah, I'm—" she stopped abruptly and changed topics. "Who's winning?"

"Vancouver, unfortunately," Derek responded, giving her a weird look. "And since when do you care about hockey?"

"Since… now." She was staring straight at the screen. "Do you want popcorn?" she chirped.

"Uh…" Derek stared openly at her, completely confused.

"Great! I'll be right back." She leapt up and hurried into the kitchen. Derek heard the sounds of popcorn popping in the microwave a few moments later. He turned back to the game, and gave a cry of excitement when London scored a goal right before the timer was out.

Casey returned with the popcorn, smiling. "Did your team win?"

"Yeah! Well, they're not _my_ team… yet. Hopefully." He raised an eyebrow, wondering what was up with her. Maybe he'd really freaked her out with his tactics earlier when he grabbed the waistline of her jeans.

The front door opened, and in came the rest of the family. "Smerek!" cried Marti, bounding over to leap into his lap and wrap her arms around his neck. He smiled and tickled her side, and she giggled.

"How was the movie, Smarti?" he asked, ruffling her hair.

"Great! It was about a robot that lived all by itself and ran around collecting things. Then it fell in love with another robot."

"Aw, I loved that movie," Casey cried. "It was _Wall-e_, right?"

"Yeah!"

"Hey kids, want some dessert?" George called.

"Didn't they already have some, Georgie?" asked Nora as she put her purse away.

George grinned. "But there's always room for seconds, right?"

Nora laughed, shaking her head. "Cake and ice cream, guys?"

Everyone gathered around the dining table as Nora and George started preparing the ice cream.

"Lizzie, Edwin, can you two get some bowls and spoons for us?" Nora called.

"I'm getting Sir Monks-a-lot!" Marti exclaimed, leaping up from the table and running upstairs. "He loves dessert!"

As soon as the gang left to do various things, Derek realized that he and Casey were alone at the dining room. He opened his mouth to make some comment about her haggard appearance when she beat him to it. "Whew, is it hot in here or is it just me?" she asked, fanning herself with a hand.

Derek stared at her. What was she up to?

_**Casey**_

Lizzie and Edwin returned shortly with the things to set the table, and soon Marti was back in her seat, clinging her stuffed monkey to her chest. George and Nora handed out plates of cake and the family began to eat.

Derek took a huge gulp of water, and Casey took this moment to unzip her jacket all the way, revealing the low-cut, red camisole that she'd put on. Derek set down his glass, just so happening to glance at Casey from across the table. His eyes grew wide and a second later he had sprayed water everywhere. It went all over his chin and dribbled down onto his shirt. Casey bit back a laugh.

"Derek, you ok?" George asked, concerned.

"Uh…" mumbled Derek, wiping his chin with a napkin. "Yeah… Went down the wrong way." His voice sounded strangled, and Casey smirked at him, bending down purposefully over her dessert and slowly sliding a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. She closed her eyes and let out a little groan.

"This is _so good_, mom," she said, opening her eyes and staring straight at Derek. His mouth was hanging open, and his eyes kept flickering down to her chest before he jerked them away. It appeared to be quite a struggle. Casey smiled at him, flicking her hair over her shoulder like she'd seen the girls do that he hung out with.

"Don't you like your cake, Derek?" she cooed, reaching over and stealing a bite of his cake. She wiped a smudge of chocolate off her lower lip with a finger and then licked the cake off her finger.

Derek had not moved for several minutes, and Casey gave a soft chuckle. This seemed to wake him up; he shook himself, took a deep breath and asked to be excused.

"You don't like your cake?" Nora wondered.

"It's… great… Gotta go." He leapt away from the table as though it had burst into flames and made a dash for the stairs.

Casey beamed at her mom. "It's delicious, mom," she said.

_**Derek**_

Derek paced his room, unwilling to sit still and replay what had just happened in his mind, but unable to block certain images out of his head. "The _nerve_," he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. He'd get her back for this. Derek Venturi was _never_ caught off guard. And if he…_had_…been a little bit… uncomfortable with the last ten minutes at the table, well… it wouldn't happen again.

There was a knock at his door. "What?" he growled.

The door opened, and Casey waltzed in. Derek sucked in his breath to see that she hadn't bothered to zip her sweatshirt back up yet. "Hello, Derek," she sang with a grin and holding a tray of food. "I saw you left without finishing your dessert, so I offered to bring it up for you." She walked up to him and held it out. "Oh, and my face is up _here_, by the way."

Scowling, Derek raised his eyes back to his face. His cheeks felt hot with a blush, and he cursed her silently for getting to him like this. "You can eat it for me," he snapped.

"Really? Thanks!" She plopped down on his bed and started eating the ice cream in _that way_ again, slowly lifting the spoon to her mouth—eyes closed—and sliding it inside. She groaned at the taste and Derek bit back a groan of—

"Ok!" he yelled, snatching the tray away from her. "You've made your point. Now go away before I get _really_ mad."

She smirked up at him, and Derek took a deep breath in an effort to calm the tingles dancing along his skin. "You don't like your dessert?" she asked, standing up and approaching him. As she reached him, she let a drop of chocolate ice cream fall from the corner of her lips, landing on her skin just above the line of her shirt. "Oops," she breathed, raising her eyes to his. "Care to get that for me?"

"ARGH!" Derek yelled, placing his hands on her shoulders and shoving her backwards to the door. "Out, out, _out_!" He pushed her through the doorway and slammed the door. Only then did he realized that he was panting and flushed and… _uh oh_.

"This means WAR, McDonald," he said to himself. And he knew just how to get back at her.

_**Casey**_

Sunlight filtered over her face, and Casey opened her eyes to a brand new day. It was Sunday morning, her favorite time of the week. She had all day to finish projects, read a book, and plan out her week. The kids usually watched cartoons until noon, and Derek always slept until at least that time. She glanced at her clock; it read 8:35am. Perfect.

She stretched, about to sit up when suddenly her door burst open and she realized that Derek had entered. Casey felt her jaw drop. He was half-naked, with only a towel wrapped around his waist, and his auburn hair turned dark and dripping with water. "Hey, Case, have you seen my shirt?" he asked her. "I thought you might have stolen it to cuddle with while you fantasize about me."

"I—I—what are—you don't have—" she stammered, face burning and eyes wide. Her entire body felt stiff and alert, as though every nerve was shot with electricity. Derek looked _good_. "Why are you awake so early?" she finally snapped.

"Like I said, I'm looking for my shirt." He rifled through her desk drawers, and Casey watched as droplets of water slid down the lean muscles of his back. A wave of heat washed over her. "You don't store it with your school things, do you?" he asked, turning around to face her.

"Nngh," she said. "I mean, 'No'…"

Derek smiled down at her. "Casey, you really shouldn't gape at people like that. It's _rude_." He walked over next to her and exclaimed, "Ah ha! There it is!" Reaching over her body, he snatched up one of his shirts from underneath her other pillow. "I knew you'd taken it." A drop of water from his arm fell onto Casey's hand and she shivered.

"Derek! I—I didn't take anything of yours! You put that there to set me up!" Casey crossed her arms, huffing. "I bet you snuck into my room last night and hid it under my pillow."

Shaking his head, Derek smirked, saying, "Your fantasies have really taken a turn for the worse, Casey. I'm shocked at how dirty your mind is becoming!"

Gasping, Casey cried, "De-REK!" before he laughed and waltzed out of her room.

Only then did she realized that she was panting and flushed and… _oh no_.

This was _not_ over yet. She'd get him back even if it was the last thing on her list!

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Please review! Thanks for reading, everyone!! :)


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, and I hope you enjoy reading it. :) Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed; it means a lot! *hugs all around*

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Chapter 6

_**Marti**_

"Bad Sir Monks-a-lot!" Marti admonished to the beloved stuffed monkey that Nora had bought her. He had spilled some ice cream, and it was the last bite that she had, too! Although she asked her father if she could have another scoop, he'd told her that there was no more. So Marti took it upon herself to punish the clumsy, little monkey. She decided that the best way to do this was to place him in the hallway between Derek and Casey's rooms. Then he'd have to put up with all their fighting, and he'd think twice about being such a messy monkey again.

Marti had just reached her bedroom door when she heard her oldest brother's voice. Grinning mischievously, Marti dove behind the bookshelf in the hallway, deciding that a little bit of spying might be a fun way to end her Sunday evening.

"What _is_ this?" Derek cried at Casey. Marti almost gave her hiding spot away by exclaiming with joy; Casey was in a swimming suit! But at the last second, Marti remembered that she had to be sneaky if she wanted to make use of the best spying locations again. So she waited, knowing that she could follow them later if they were planning on going swimming.

"I happen to be… to be… going swimming!" Casey replied, her head tilted upwards in a snooty way.

"Well isn't it a little bit cold for that?" Derek asked, and Marti frowned at the weird tone of voice he had. Like he was choking or something. She found it odd that he kept looking at Casey's belly-button, too, or at the pretty coral top with white beads. (Marti very much loved Casey's swimming suit).

"Not if the Davis' pool is heated," said Casey, adjusting the bottom half of her bikini.

"It's almost 9:30 at night!"

Casey rolled her eyes. "I've done all my homework; and anyway, who are _you_ to talk, Derek?" Here, Casey lowered her voice. "Didn't you come into my room earlier wearing—wearing just a _towel_?"

For a moment, Derek didn't respond, so Marti decided to sneak out of her hiding place and make herself known.

"Smerek! Casey!" she cried, grinning and wrapping her arms around Derek's pajama-clad legs. "Is Casey going swimming?" she asked her brother.

"No," he growled, but Casey answered, "Yes," at the same time. Marti was confused.

"I am going swimming, Marti," Casey replied, bending down to Marti's level (something that Marti always appreciated). "Derek just doesn't want me to because it would mean that he would lose."

"At what?" Marti wondered.

"Um… at…" Casey didn't seem to know what to say. "Well, he'd lose because he can't find his swimming trunks, so he'd have to miss out on all the fun."

"Can _I_ go swimming, too?" Marti asked, opening her eyes wide in a way that usually got her what she wanted.

"Well, it's pretty late, and didn't George just tell you to go to bed?" Casey said gently.

"Aww, I wanna swim!"

"Hey, how about the next time we go swimming, I'll play Marco Polo and River Dragon with you for as long as you want?!" Derek suggested, scooping her up and hugging her.

"Yeah!!" Marti cried. "Thanks, Smerek!" She turned to Casey and offered her step-sister a smile. "You can play with us, too, Casey."

"Thanks, Marti! That's so sweet of you. Now you better go brush your teeth."

"Will you help me?" Marti asked. She loved it when Casey helped her get ready for bed.

"Sure, sweetie." The two went into the bathroom together, leaving Derek in the hallway to watch them go. But not before Marti gave him a kiss on the cheek goodnight and grab Sir Monks-a-lot. He'd endured enough punishment for one night.

_**Casey**_

"Goodnight, sweetie," Casey smiled down at her step-sister. She kissed Marti's forehead and tucked the covers around her chin. Marti's eyes drooped; she was half-asleep already.

Casey left the room, closing the door behind her. Derek was nowhere to be seen. Excellent. Now she just had to ring up Emily and ask if she could go swimming in her pool… which was actually _not_ heated. This was going to be an unpleasant experience….

"Hello?" Emily asked once Casey had dialed her number.

"Hi, Em, weird situation here, but I was just wondering if I could go swimming in your pool."

There was a brief pause. "Uh, Casey?" Emily queried on the other end. "Do you know what time it is? And what _season_?"

"It's… March. And it's only 10."

"Yeah, but the pool's going to be _freezing_. And who on earth wants to go swimming at night when it's cold out?" There was another pause, and then Emily added, "Case, are you ok? You've been acting pretty weird, even for you. Truman's not giving you any trouble, is he?"

"Nope, no trouble at all!" Casey chirped into the phone. "It's actually Derek who's the troublemaker, as usual. That's why I've got to go swimming. It's—it's a—dare! Yeah, a dare!"

"Um… well, I guess that'd be ok. My parents are already asleep, though, so don't be too loud. And I won't be joining you, hope that's ok."

"No problem, Em! And thanks so much." Casey hung up the phone and went into the bathroom to grab a towel. They were nowhere to be seen. "What on earth?" Casey asked herself.

"Looking for these?" a voice asked behind her. It was Derek, wearing his dark green swimming trunks and leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. Several towels were draped over his arm.

"Derek!" hissed Casey, dragging him into the bathroom and shutting the door so as not to disturb the rest of the family. "You can't just steal towels from the bathroom! And give me one; I'm going swimming."

He laughed and threw one in her face. "Fine, that can be yours."

Casey glanced down at it and glared at him. "Yeah right, Derek. Isn't this supposed to be _your_ towel?"

The print on the towel he'd tossed to her was of a busty jungle woman standing next to a leopard. Casey shoved it back at him.

"You don't like it?" he grinned, taking it back and handing her the coral-colored towel that matched her bikini (she'd bought them together). "It's my favorite towel. I named her Tiger."

"Who? The leopard or the girl?"

Derek considered the question. "Both actually."

Casey rolled her eyes and started to push past him, but her stomach fluttered as she noticed the light scattering of freckles on his shoulders. She'd never been this close to him (well, except when he'd reached over her for the shirt that she was positive he'd stashed under her pillow). He wouldn't move to let her pass. "Excuse me," she hissed, feeling the tempo of her heartbeat increase.

"What's the magic word?"

"_Please_."

"Hmm, wrong."

Casey huffed. "Derek, just let me pass!"

"Not until you say the magic word."

Rolling her eyes, Casey tried to step around him, but he braced both arms against the doorframe, blocking her exit. Casey knew that shoving him was out of the question; she couldn't touch him now, not when he was shirtless. She was already struggling to stay calm in the face of… well, in the face of his naked torso. He still had on his necklace, she observed, and it looked good against his bare skin.

"Ok, Derek, let's skip the immaturity session and move on. I'm going swimming and that's that."

"What's the magic word?" he insisted. "I'll give you a hint: it rhymes with 'Godzilla'."

Casey made a face at him. "Ha, ha, Derek. Very clever. It couldn't be klutzilla, could it?"

"Ding, ding, ding!" Derek cried quickly. He moved away, opening the door as he did. It was only after she'd started to walk by him that she realized that he was still _very_ close to her. Her right arm and shoulder brushed against his chest, and she couldn't help shiver at the feel of his hot skin against her own. She couldn't be sure, but Casey thought she felt him jerk slightly at the contact. The next moment, however, he was standing behind her with the stupid smirk on his attractive face, following her on his attractive legs and laughing at her with his attractive voice.

"So swimming, huh?" he asked as she made her way down the stairs, pretending to be nonchalant. "Whose pool are we using?"

Casey had reached the landing of the stairs by now, which was a good thing because she stopped short and spun around to face him. He was one step above her so she had to tilt her head far back in order to see him. "This is not a 'we' situation here, Derek. _I'm_ the one going swimming in Emily's pool, _not_ you. _You_ weren't invited." Not to mention, it would foil her plan on just standing around in a towel for ten minutes before returning to her house, _pretending_ that she'd been sent home before she'd got the chance to get in the freezing pool.

But Derek didn't seem to take "No" for an answer. He just brushed past her out the front door (luckily their parents had gone down to read before bed) and started for Emily's backyard. Casey had to hurry to catch up.

_**Derek**_

He was having a tough time biting back his snickers at the way that he'd managed to thwart all of Casey's careful planning. Sure, she'd caught him off-guard with the red tank-top and then sudden appearance of a _bikini_ on her body (he logged those images away for future use), but Derek knew that he was winning. Casey didn't stand a chance, really. This was almost too easy, but there was no way that Derek was backing down. A challenge was a challenge.

He approached the pool and stuck his toe in. _Yowch_, he cried silently, _this is freakin' cold_. The water jarred his nerves all the way up to his knee. It was freezing.

"This is unbelievable," Casey snapped from behind him. "I refuse to climb in that pool. It's contaminated now." She approached the water's edge and bent to stick her toe in the water as well. Within a second she had jerked it back out, shivering. "Ok, this is _cold_."

Derek smirked, and on an impulse he turned to face her, reaching out his arms to shove her in. At the last second, though, she realized what he was going to do, and grabbed his arms. For a brief moment, they struggled mid-air: Derek laughing and Casey's mouth open in a silent shriek. Then they landed with a splash in the icy water.

As soon as Derek's head submerged, he regretted his actions. It was _damn_ cold. Struggling to rise above the water, he felt Casey's limbs whapping against him as she tried to free their tangled bodies. Their heads lifted above the water and they gasped for air. Derek felt his entire body shaking from the cold, and noticed that Casey was doing the same. "Oh my G-G-God," she chattered. "You are s-s-s-so g-going down!"

Had he not been just as unhappy with his earlier decision, Derek might have laughed at her. Instead, he made his way to the stairs to get out as soon as possible.

But Casey beat him to the staircase, and shoved him back under on her way out of the pool. Derek splashed around, sputtering water out of his mouth in anger. "N-not funny, C-C-Casey!" he stammered.

"Yeah, it kinda was," she replied, making her way to her towel. Derek climbed out to follow her and watched her movements with wide eyes. The light from the pool illuminated her body; water droplets glistened on her skin, dripping down around her like tears. Derek swallowed, and scrambled for his towel. This wasn't good….

"Ok, let's j-just go back and pretend th-that this didn't happen," Casey stated, wrapping the towel around her shoulders. Derek didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

"Sounds g-good to me," he replied, and they made their way to the backdoor of their house.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Once they'd reached the laundry room, Derek rubbed the towel over his head, getting the excess water out of his hair. When he finished, he caught Casey staring at him. "What?" he growled.

She turned away and muttered, "Nothing."

Derek decided to stare at the beauty marks on her back instead of quizzing her further. Her skin looked so soft. He didn't realize that he'd been staring until she asked, "What?", mocking him.

He narrowed his eyes and snapped, "Nothing."

"Can you hand me the lotion on that shelf?" she asked suddenly. Silently, he grabbed what she'd asked for and handed it to her. As she took it, their hands brushed and Derek nearly fell over. The contact of their skin sent what felt like electrical currents all the way from his fingers to his toes, and he felt lips part in surprise. He stared down at Casey; she was staring at his hand, her eyes wide and oddly fearful.

"Um…" she whispered, and lifted her eyes to his.

He didn't know what made him do it, but suddenly he'd pressed closer to her and started kissing her neck. She gave a small gasp and he heard the lotion bottle hit the floor a second later as her hands wrapped around his neck.

"Derek," she sighed.

"Derek?" a sudden voice called from the basement. "Is that you up there?" It was his Dad.

Instantly Derek leapt away from Casey, his body tense and tight, his head feeling woozy. For a moment they stared at each other, Casey's hand touching her neck where he'd kissed her and Derek's mouth burning. Then, she turned around and fled.

* * *

A/N: How's that for a cliff-hanger? *cackles evilly* ;) Please review! Thanks.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_**Casey**_

For the entire time she hurried to her room, Casey's heart slammed in her chest and her pulse throbbed in her neck. _My neck_… Reaching her room and entering, she brought her fingers back up to the skin where Derek had—had— It felt tender. She glanced in her vanity mirror and gasped, outraged. He'd given her a _hickey!_ Unbelievable. She glared at her reflection, unsure if she was more annoyed with Derek or with herself for allowing the last forty-five minutes to even occur.

Sighing, Casey dabbed some cover-up on her neck. She had to put a stop to this big, crazy mess. It was too risky for more than one reason. Their parents were married; they lived together; they were stepsiblings. There were boundaries between them that couldn't be crossed. Casey stood up and walked into the hallway, trying to suppress the sudden lead feeling in her chest, and pretending that the melancholy that had come over her was simply due to her lower body temperature.

_**Derek**_

There was a knock at Derek's door. He'd dealt with his dad's annoyance at him for being too loud (and had made up some excuse about why he was soaking wet). Turning off his iPod, he called, "What?"

Casey entered, prompting a groan of annoyance from Derek. _Great._ "Whaddyou want?" he snapped, angry that his heart hammered faster at her entrance, as if in anticipation for something. What was _wrong_ with him?

For a moment she didn't speak; she seemed to be steeling herself against an unpleasant task. "Listen," she finally said, "We need to talk."

"Spill. And make it quick, I was enjoying some peace and quiet before you barged in."

She rolled her eyes, "I _knocked_. Can we just talk?"

"That's what we're doing now, isn't it?"

"Derek, you know what I mean."

"Apparently I don't."

"Ugh, just listen, ok?" Casey sank into his desk chair, picking at a piece of fuzz that had come loose from the cushion of the armrest. "I… I think we've let things get a bit too out of hand."

Derek sighed. This wasn't going to be a fun conversation. Anytime Casey wanted to get serious, he usually ended up compromising and sacrificing his authority. "Ok," he said, taking off his earphones. "Why do you say that?"

She took a deep breath. "I think we're starting to cross boundaries that—that shouldn't be crossed."

"Like what?" Derek asked, putting on an innocent face just to tease her.

"You _know_ what!" she hissed, standing up. "Ever since that stupid rumor was spread, you've been acting all weird around me. And it's made me do…weird things around you." She refused to meet his eyes, staring off to the side instead.

Derek stood up and leaned against the desk in front of her. "I thought we were done talking about your—"

"—If you make one more reference to my fantasies," Casey interrupted, leaning into him, "I'll smack that smirk right off your face."

"Oh yeah? With what? Your athletic skill?"

"No, doofus, with my _fist_."

Derek laughed. "If Klutzilla ever managed to hit a target, I'd personally congratulate her."

"Well, be prepared, because the day isn't far off." She pursed her lips, and Derek found himself staring at how red they were when she huffed in annoyance.

He leaned closer, smirking. "Is that a threat?"

She raised an eyebrow. "It's a _challenge_."

"Well, Casey, I'm prepared to take you on, as always, and I'm prepared to win. As always."

"Oh, really? I wouldn't be so sure."

He placed his hands on her shoulders, about to steer her around to direct her to the exit. "See that's the thing, you always seem to forget who you're dealing with—"

"I don't think so," she said softly, staring up at him with wide eyes. Derek swallowed.

"Well, I guess I should have known, figuring how slow you are sometimes." He felt like he was moving through molasses; almost like he had forgotten why he'd put his hands on her shoulders in the first place.

"You're kind of slow yourself sometimes."

Derek blinked, then laughed. "In your dreams, Casey. Oh wait, maybe I should call them your fantasi—OOF!" Casey had swung her hand and slapped his mouth. It hadn't really been a punch in the mouth, but it still hurt. "God dammit, Casey! OW!" Derek rubbed his mouth. "Was that really called for?" he snapped.

The look on her face was serious, yet her eyes crackled with an intensity that he rarely saw. "I told you I'd wipe that smirk off your face." She smiled, her eyes narrowed in victory. "And I did."

"You'll excuse me for not properly congratulating you right away," Derek said.

"Hm. You're excused."

"I was being _sarcastic_," she drawled. "Maybe you should try it sometime." Despite his best efforts, he felt a smile twitch at his lips. Some of his witty attitude must have rubbed off on Casey, and it amused him to no end.

His smile grew, and Derek started laughing; he couldn't help it. This whole experience was so ridiculous, what with their new brand of one-upping each other and all.

"What's so funny?" demanded Casey.

"You!" Derek guffawed. "You've picked up some of my wit."

"I have not!" she insisted, but Derek caught a slight tremor at her own mouth.

"It's a compliment, Case," he grinned. "They don't come often from me, so accept it gracefully."

She returned the smile. "All right, all right. Thanks, D."

"No prob," he replied, and his body felt warm and tingly, but in a different way than it had before. "Hey, do you have a weird feeling in your chest, too?" he asked.

Casey snickered. "It's called 'warm fuzzies,' and they usually follow a friendly interaction between two people."

"Oh, so this is a Kodak moment, then?" he asked, the grin back in place. Casey laughed.

"Not so bad, is it?" she wondered.

"Definitely bearable."

There was a moment of comfortable silence. The warm fuzzies inside Derek's chest turned into something else; if he'd been around Marti he might have called it 'affection,' but this was Casey and it was different with her. He reached out to brush a lock of hair from her face, and he saw her breath catch. "Derek…" she breathed.

"Mmhmm?" he murmured, his fingers touching the smooth lock on her forehead.

"You—we—not good—" she trailed off.

Suddenly he realized how close his lips had moved to her own. "What?" he said, unsure of what he was asking. Her eyes fluttered closed and he felt her gentle breath, smelling like caramel (he _loved_ caramel), tickling the skin on his cheek. He moved closer, glad that he hadn't kicked her out yet, and closed his own eyes, barely aware of what he was doing. All he knew was that those warm fuzzy things felt all the better the closer he moved to her soft form, cupping her face with his hands. He heard a distant bell and wondered if he was dreaming. Their lips met, and Derek felt a rush of electricity and warmth surge through him. She shifted beneath his lips, opening her mouth to deepend the kiss and reaching up to tangle her fingers through his hair.

"CASEY!" Edwin's voice called from downstairs. "It's for you!"

They broke apart, breathing hard and unable to look away from each other. Derek realized that the bell he'd heard had been the doorbell. What time was it, anyway? Almost 11pm? It was pretty late for a Sunday.

He looked back at Casey, and his chest clutched as he realized how beautiful she looked when she was flustered. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips red and slightly swollen, her eyes wide. It almost looked like she was… glowing. With a great deal of surprise, Derek realized that he was shaking. Trembling. This had never happened when he'd kissed any girl. Not with Kendra, not with Sally. No one.

"I—I—" stammered Casey, licking her lips. Derek took a deep breath, willing himself not to rush at her and continue where they'd left off. "I guess I'd better…" she trailed off, brushing her fingertips across her lips. Derek wondered if they tingled as much as his own did. "Um…" She spun around, opened his door, and left.

_**Casey**_

_Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,_ Casey's brain screamed. _What just happened?_ Her lips were on fire, her head was spinning, and she felt like she was going to fall down the stairs because her knees didn't seem to want to work anymore. She clutched at the railing, hoping to make it down safely.

_Derek just __**kissed**__ me!_ she cried happily to herself. Her pulse hammered in her ears and in her chest. She got downstairs and saw that Edwin was staring at her with a funny look on his face.

"Why're you grinning like that?" he asked.

"What?" she murmured in confusion, then realized that she _was_ grinning. Forcing the smile from her lips, she replied, "Oh, no reason. I just found out I…uh…got high marks on my reading assignment."

"Hmm," said Edwin. "Well, look who's here."

Casey turned her attention to the visitor in the doorway. Immediately, she froze, her mouth falling open in horror.

It was Truman.

* * *

A/N: Another evil cliff-hanger, sorry!! I'll update soon, I promise. Don't forget to review, I love feedback. Thanks, everyone. :)


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I had a bit of a tough time with this chapter, so I hope it turned out ok. Thanks for all the reviews, you guys rock! :)

* * *

Chapter 8

_**Casey**_

"Truman?!" gasped Casey, wrapping her towel tighter around her body. "What—what are you—"

"I don't want us to be over," he interrupted, taking a step toward her.

"Can't we talk about this another time?" Casey wondered, seeing the late hour on the wall clock. "I should get to—to bed."

"Listen, I really feel awful about how things turnout out on Friday. What with you discovering the little problem I had yet to deal with and all that."

"You mean that girl that you were making out with behind my back?" Casey huffed, narrowing her eyes at him, "Yeah, what _about_ that?"

"Well," Truman began, laying a hand on her arm. Disgusted by his touch, Casey shrugged it off. "Casey, I'm really sorry. Hailey was there for me during some tough times, and she started wanting more, and so I—"

"I don't want to hear this," Casey cried, covering her ears. As she did so, the towel dropped to the floor. She hurried to retrieve it before Truman saw her in her bathing suit, but it was too late.

"What's with the hot bikini?" he asked, smirking, his eyes lingering over her body in a way that made her uncomfortable.

"I—I decided to take an evening swim in Emily's pool. To refresh myself before, um, bed." The lie sounded ridiculous even to her ears.

Truman paused, making an incredulous face. "Really."

"Yes, really. It's a habit that I often partake in, seeing as how it clarifies the mind after—"

"Casey, I want to get back together," Truman insisted gently. "I miss you. You were good for me. You made me a better person."

"That's crap," sneered a voice from the stairway. Groaning, Casey turned around and saw Derek leaning against the railing, still wearing his swimming trunks, although he'd thrown on a white t-shirt.

"Woah, man," Truman snapped, "Butt out of this. I've had enough to deal with from you after that damn rumor was spread about the two of you." He turned an accusatory glare on Casey, who snorted.

"Truman, you aren't man enough to know when you have competition," Derek said, stalking over to stand next to him.

Truman rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm pretty sure that my competition isn't coming from _you_."

"Ok, guys, let's just leave this until tomorrow," Casey reasoned. "It's getting late."

"And why are you in a swimsuit, Derek?" Truman exclaimed suddenly, ignoring Casey. "Did you and Casey share a little evening swim together? Or was that just wishful thinking on your part?"

"Truman!" Casey cried, shocked at his behavior. "You need to leave now."

"Can't even defend your own honor, eh?" he asked Derek, whose jaw was clenched as he glared at the intruder.

"It's called maturity, actually" Derek seethed in response, "An attribute which I happen to possess on certain circumstances, but that you obviously lack."

"Guess I struck a nerve there with my comment about your midnight swim. You're way out of her league, anyway." Truman was laughing now, and Casey shot him a glare that he didn't seem to notice.

"Truman—" she began, but he ignored her for the millionth time. She was _really_ getting mad now.

"That's pretty amusing," Derek retorted, "coming from the guy who cheated on his girlfriend. I wasn't the one who betrayed her trust." Derek and Truman were facing each other, both looking tense and angry.

Casey gave a nervous chuckle. "Look, guys, let's leave this for tomorrow, ok? How about… after school in a nice, rational chat between two mature people?"

They ignored her, or perhaps the testosterone coursing through their veins was too powerful by that point; Casey really didn't know. "Looks to me like you've got a thing going for her," Truman shook his head, sneering. "That's pathetic, man. Why don't you just let us alone and go back to your womanizing ways?"

"Dude," Derek hissed, glaring at Truman, "I thought that was _your _tactic. Weren't you the asshole who was sneaking around behind Casey's back?"

Suddenly Truman's fist shot out and connected with Derek's face, sending Derek stumbling back a few steps. When he righted himself, Casey saw with horror that there was a red welt across his left cheekbone. A surge of hatred swelled up inside of her as fury coated her vision with a red haze.

"How _dare_ you!" she cried, barely restraining her anger.

Truman continued to glare at Derek. "He had it coming to him; he's just too hung up on you to let the _right_ guy have a shot at the girl." Truman rolled his eyes in Derek's direction. "He's not worth it, Case; he's a worthless nuisance."

Casey didn't even see it coming. One second she was shooting daggers at him with her glare, and the next she'd swung her arm back and whacked him in the eye as hard as she could. And then she was pummeling his chest with her fists over and over again, shrieking insults at him in her rage. She couldn't even remember half of what she'd said. Before she had the chance to really do some damage, though, she felt strong arms—Derek's arms—pulling her away from Truman, saying, "Casey…Casey, let it go. He's a jackass, but I'm fine. You don't need to _kill_ him to get revenge."

Restrained by Derek, Casey settled with bellowing, "GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!" Truman—sporting a black eye—turned around and rushed out the door.

Casey turned around and examined Derek's face. The welt was bigger and redder now, and she felt plain _awful_. "Derek, I'm so sorry about everything. It's my fault that he—"

"Don't worry about it," Derek interrupted, smiling slightly. "The ladies like a man who's been a little roughed up," he joked.

"At least let me take a look at it," she insisted, pulling him over to the kitchen.

"What was all that ruckus?" asked a voice, and Casey saw Lizzie on the stairway, a worried look on her face.

"Truman was over here, and he hit me, so then Casey kicked his ass and he ran off," Derek explained succinctly. "Oh, sorry," he said at Casey's look, "Casey kicked his _butt _and he ran off."

"Are you serious?" Lizzie cried, clearly impressed by Casey's actions. "And are you ok, Derek?"

"He's fine; you can go back to sleep," Casey said, searching through the freezer for some ice. "I'm going to take care of it."

After Lizzie had gone back upstairs, Casey put an icepack on Derek's cheek, feeling guilty all over again when he winced.

"Look, Casey, I'll be ok—"

"No, no, no, no, let me do this." Derek just sighed and resigned himself to Casey's fussing. Her fingers felt warm against his skin, and her touch sent tingles dancing through his body. Derek shivered as he felt her breath brush against his neck while she fidgeted with the icepack.

After a moment of silence while Casey held the ice against his face, Derek said, "Thanks for coming to my aid back there." He gave her a small smile, and Casey returned it warmly. "You sure were a force to be reckoned with."

"It's no problem. I have to admit it that it was pretty satisfying when I punched him in the eye."

Derek laughed. "I wouldn't want to be on your bad side." He paused, and added, "Oh, wait, I already am."

Chuckling, Casey studied the mark on Derek's face and said, "Nah, you're not so bad."

"You're just saying that because I'm a such a great kisser," Derek joked, but when Casey glanced down at him she noticed that his eyes were serious. It was his way of broaching a problem with an impossible solution.

"Um, I better get to bed," she said, suddenly feeling shy.

"I thought you wanted to talk about this."

Casey sighed. "I _do_. But tomorrow's a Monday, and I _have_ to be alert for school."

Derek just gaped at her. "Are you serious? After all that's happened tonight?"

"I have a quiz in history tomorrow, Derek."

"But—"

"I'll get you some more ice and meet you in your room, ok?" Casey turned away and opened the freezer again. After a moment she heard Derek leave the kitchen and go upstairs. Blinking back tears, she retrieved more ice and got a fresh washcloth.

She hated Truman. He was a conniving, manipulative bully. But the reason that she hated him the most was because of a comment that he'd made to Derek:

"_Why don't you just let us alone and go back to your womanizing ways?"_ That had struck a nerve, as much as Casey hated to admit it. When all was said and done, she was the clumsy goody-two-shoes, and Derek was… well, the popular guy, the ladies' man. Why would he ever have an invested interest in her? Derek just liked the thrill of the chase; now that he'd kissed her (Casey shivered at the memory as a flash of heat flooded her body), he'd be over her. Sniffling, she brushed away the tears on her cheek and trudged upstairs to give Derek the ice.

_**Derek**_

Derek flopped face-down onto his bed, groaning. Why was Casey acting so strangely? She'd wanted to talk; hell, even _he'd_ agreed that they needed to at least address their new relationship. But then Truman had showed up and screwed everything over. God, that kid was obnoxious. Derek was thrilled that Casey had beaten the crap out of him. It had been pretty hot, but it had also been almost… sweet. He usually didn't go for that sappy kind of thing, but….

There was a knock at his door, and Derek mumbled, "Come in," sitting up to face Casey. "Hey," he said in acknowledgement.

"Hey," she replied, handing him the fresh supply of ice. She'd put on a yellow t-shirt over her swimming top, and Derek noticed how good the color looked against her skin. "Just keep this on your cheek for a while, and it should really help."

"Thanks," he smiled at her, _really_ smiled, and he observed with some amusement that her breathing grew shallower in response. Derek patted the bed. "Sit down," he said.

When she didn't move, Derek stood up and approached her. "So," he started, grinning and pointing to the red mark on his face, "you think this will fully secure my position as the hottest guy at school _ever_?"

Casey relaxed slightly at the joke and rolled her eyes. "I doubt it," she snorted. "Not with that massive ego of yours."

"Aw, I'm surprised at you, Case, for shooting down a guy's ego right after he's been punched in the face."

"Well, an ego like yours can stand to be shot down a few times."

He smiled at her, into her large blue eyes, and reached out to tug on a lock of her hair. "Thanks again, Casey."

She rolled her eyes and laughed, fiddling with the beads on her bathing suit bottom. "I did it for both of us."

He stared down at her for a moment, his eyes crinkled in his smile, watching her as she bit her lip and shyly refused to meet his eyes. "You know, you deserve a hell of a lot better than that louse," he said suddenly.

Casey snorted. "I don't know why I _ever_ even considered dating him, let alone actually going out with the bastard."

Putting on his trademark smirk, Derek added, "I guess your brain decided not to work that day."

Casey gave him a little shove on his shoulder. When she removed her hand, laughing, Derek's skin burned from the contact. "I don't think my brain worked for the entire two months that I decided that dating him was an acceptable idea." She shook herself, sighing. "But I don't want to talk about Truman anymore. I should get to bed."

She stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his cheek. "Thanks, Derek," she whispered.

"For what?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"For showing me that deep down, you're a sweet guy."

He rubbed the back of his neck, not used to compliments from her. "Well… you're welcome."

She turned to go, and as Derek watched her leave, his chest clenched as he remembered his words from a few minutes ago to her: _"You deserve a hell of a lot better than that louse."_

She deserved a hell of a lot better than him, too.

* * *

A/N: I had a great time making Casey beat up Truman. It was total ownage, if you ask me. Heehee. Please review! :)


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I think this has to be my longest gap in updating so far. :( Sorry everyone! This chapter was a tough one to write, again, so bear with me. Thanks, my lovely readers!

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Chapter 9

_**Paul**_

Taking a sip of his coffee, Paul smiled. It had been a good Monday: he had helped several students with their problems—something that always put him in a great mood. But best of all, Casey McDonald had not had a mental breakdown yet today. Sure, there was still another half an hour of school left, but she usually showed up somewhere between first period and lunch. If the day reached sixth period and Casey hadn't rushed into his office, Paul could almost always bet that she wouldn't be there.

It was halfway through sixth period now, and he hadn't even heard a peep from outside his door. He liked Casey, he really did, but… she could be pretty insane sometimes.

A sudden knock wiped the smile from his face. _Great_, he thought to himself, _she's going to show up with twenty-five minutes to go. _"Come in!" he called, bracing himself for a Casey panic-attack.

But it wasn't her. It was the bane of her existence: Derek.

"Oh, Derek, hello, hello," he said, gesturing to a chair. Derek collapsed into one. "How can I help you?" Paul asked, trying to hide his curiosity.

Derek frowned. "So do you know if plotting to permanently lock your stepsister's ex-boyfriend in the guy's locker room would be considered first degree murder, or not?"

"Um…" Paul blinked and set his coffee cup down, leaning forward over his desk. This was going to be interesting…. "I'm not quite sure I understand the question. Did you lock Truman French in the boy's locker room?"

"No yet," Derek muttered, picking up one of Paul's desk toys (a slinky) and playing with it. "But I'm strongly considering it."

"I see… And were you the cause of his black eye?"

This elicited a smirk from Derek. "Nope. That was Casey actually."

"Really?" Paul tried not to sound too happy (he honestly couldn't stand that Truman kid). "Er, I mean…" He cleared his throat. "Violence is not the answer to our problems."

Rolling his eyes, Derek tossed the slinky onto the desk. "Yeah, right, Paul. I think we both know that Truman is a jerk who doesn't deserve a girl half as decent as Casey."

It was Paul's turn to smirk, but he only allowed his mouth to twitch a fraction (he had to remain objective, after all). "Well, you mentioned something about him being her ex-boyfriend, so it looks like he's out of the picture now."

"Yeah, I guess he is." Derek paused, looking thoughtful. "I still hate his guts, though."

"Mmm," replied Paul, trying to sound unbiased and not succeeding very well. He hesitated, then asked, "Derek, was there a particular reason that you came in to see me today?"

"Well… yeah, I guess so," Derek answered, "It's just that—"

The door burst open before he could continue, and Casey started to rush in, but upon seeing Derek she froze. "Oh, s-sorry. I didn't know anyone was in here."

"That's fine, Casey," Paul said, wondering if he would ever get out of the office today. "Just give us a minute to finish up and wait outside, please."

"Actually, I—I don't have anything to say," Derek said, getting up in a hurry. He brushed by Casey, his shoulders tense. Paul watched as Casey stiffened as Derek moved past her.

She turned to Paul. "You know what? I don't think I have anything to say, either." She smiled a little, and exclaimed, "Bye, Paul! Thanks for your help."

"You're… welcome?" Paul said, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. Casey left the room, following in Derek's footsteps.

Paul sighed, shaking his head at their odd behavior. If he didn't know any better, he'd say that…. But no. Casey was just worried about… everything, and Derek had been coping with a lot, what with hockey and boosting his grades and all that. They were just stressed. That must be it.

Smiling to himself, Paul started to gather his things. It looked like he'd be getting out of here on time after all.

_**Casey**_

"Casey!" Derek's voice called out from behind her as she hurried through the empty hallways. "Wait!"

She tried to ignore him, but Derek caught up to her, grabbing her shoulders with his hands and steering her to a stop. "What?" she asked, suppressing a shiver at his touch.

"Um," Derek began, looking uncomfortable, "Is, uh, is Truman giving you any crap?"

"No…. Why? Is he giving you any?"

"No. And that's why I'm concerned."

Casey frowned. "Shouldn't we be happy that he finally learned his lesson?" She crossed her arms and glared off into the distance. "Does he want _another_ black eye or something? Why are you so worried?"

"Calm down there, sparky. I'm not _worried_. I said I was concerned. Derek Venturi isn't afraid of a little confrontation."

"Yeah, well, the last 'little confrontation' earned you a fist to the face."

Derek waved a hand. "Psh, details, details. If he tries to lay a hand on me—or you—" he added, shooting her a look, "he's dead."

Casey snorted and shook her head, but she found herself smiling. "You're one special guy, you know that, right?"

"Duh. I'm Derek Venturi, aren't I?"

"As you've already established." Casey rolled her eyes and grabbed his sleeve, yanking him along behind her. "Come on, let's get to class."

She thought it was odd when he didn't resist or protest, but didn't question his sudden acknowledgement of the importance of academics. As they passed a closet, however, Derek suddenly dug in his heels, opening the door and yanking her inside.

"I like this room better," he said in the darkness.

"De-REK!" she hissed hotly. "We have _class_, you know. And this is a closet!"

"I'm fully aware of that fact."

Casey opened her mouth to protest when she felt his breath hot against her ear. A wave of heat erupted through her body as she felt his hands meander to her waist. Laughing nervously, she asked, "Isn't there a light switch in here somewhere?"

"What's the fun in that?"

Casey gasped as she felt Derek start to nibble at her ear. Her hands crept to his sides and she closed her eyes as his mouth met her own. "Mmm," he whispered into his mouth, "You taste like caramel again."

She smiled in response and opened her mouth to deepen their kiss. Suddenly the door flung open and light invaded the closet.

"Venturi," a voice snapped from the entrance. "McDonald. Good to see you two are having fun in my absence." Casey flew apart from Derek.

"What do you want?" she demanded, eyes narrowing.

"I want to finish where we left off last night," Truman drawled, leaning in the doorway. His eye was surrounded by a black, blue and yellow bruise and was slightly swollen. "Unless you'd care to let me join you two?"

Derek reached out and gave Truman a rough shove. "Well," hissed Truman, "that was a bit reckless, Venturi."

"I'd suggest that you get out of our sight before I do something even more reckless."

Shaking his head, Truman clucked his tongue. "Such manners. I'm surprised you go for this guy, Case."

"Shut up, Truman."

He widened his eyes and placed a hand to his chest in mock hurt. "My, my, I'm surprised at you, Casey. What have you been learning in the presence of that stepbrother of yours?"

"How to stand up for myself," she shot back. "So unless you want some more symmetry to that ugly face of yours, I'd suggest you _back off!_" As she said the last two words, she gave him two, brief shoves. She was about to shut the door when he cried, "I don't know what you see in her, Venturi! She's just another one of your conquests, right? Why don't you share the wealth?"

Tears prickled Casey's eyes; Truman knew where it hurt the most. _Damn him._ Casey took a deep breath in, about to flee the scene before either guy could see her breakdown, when she heard Derek's voice. "You know what, bastard?" he yelled. "I'm getting really sick of your bull! Why don't you just go to hell?" Casey gasped as Derek aimed his fist at Truman's other eye. It sent the brute stumbling backwards into the hallway. Truman's lip started trembling, and suddenly he was crying.

"Don't mess with my girl again if you know what's good for you," Derek snarled, giving Truman an extra shove, and Casey noted with surprise that Derek was shaking with… was it fury? Embarrassment? She didn't know.

Truman fled for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. "Think that'll take care of the little bitch?" Derek asked her, smiling weakly at her. She tried to return it, but failed. She appreciated his defending her honor, she really did, but she didn't want him to do so out of obligation. Deep down, Casey knew that Truman was right: Derek wasn't interested in her like she was with him, like she'd been for forever. Sure, he might enjoy kissing her if it was part of a personal challenge or contest between them, but—

"Derek…" she began, but her voice cracked. She tried again. "Derek, listen. You don't have to—" She was interrupted by the ringing of the bell. School was out.

"Yo, D-man!" a guy from Derek's hockey team cried, cutting in between them thumping Derek on the back. "Big game tomorrow night, huh?"

"Hey, dude!" another guy said. "Skipping class again? Niiiice." He brushed past Casey, accidentally knocking into her and causing her to stumble a little bit. She righted herself and sighed. She didn't belong in Derek's world. With one last look at her stepbrother, she turned away and left.

_**Derek**_

"Hey, dude!" one of Derek's hockey buddies cried. "Skipping class again? Niiiice." The guy hurried up to him, accidentally bumping into Casey. She almost lost her balance, but managed to right herself. Derek watched her, his heartbeat quickening as he saw her sigh, and his chest tightening as she turned away from him and left.

"Ca—" he started to call, but his friends gathered around him, thumping him on the back some more (something that had never irritated him until now) and wishing him good luck on the game tomorrow. He sighed once, then he put on a grin and returned a thump to a teammate, playing a game that had nothing to do with hockey whatsoever.

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A/N: So I think I better remove the "humor" category from this story, since it's turned into more of a drama than I'd originally planned! :P But don't worry, there's more humor/banter to come soon. :) Please review.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: The _italics_ indicate a flashback. Thanks for all the reviews! You guys rock.

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Chapter 10

_**Derek**_

"Ok, so what's this all about?" Derek asked Casey. It was two weeks since the first time that they'd kissed, and despite his initial hesitations about the whole thing, Derek had found himself having more than one not-so-innocent rendezvous with Casey during the last two weeks. He had tried to fight his desire for her—he'd even tried to hold onto his remaining shred of decency that she deserved better. But after only a day of avoiding her it had all backfired once he'd gone downstairs for a midnight snack and found her in the kitchen….

…_.Derek headed toward the fridge, having rushed through his dinner without getting seconds so that he could rush back to his room and avoid seeing Casey for longer than necessary. As he rifled through the contents of the fridge, he heard a rustling sound behind him and looked up; it was Casey._

"_Oh, sorry," she muttered, turning away._

"_Wait," he called, straightening. "What were you—that is, do you want to join me?" He held up a carton of chocolate ice cream. "Your favorite flavor!" he taunted._

_She smiled. "Sure. It's the least I can do after all your help with that Truman fiasco."_

_Derek made a face as he opened the ice cream carton. "Glad to be of service, I must say. What a douche bag."_

"_Couldn't agree more." Casey dipped a spoon into the ice cream and took a bite. The spoon slid into her mouth slowly, and she savored the rich taste of the ice cream. She looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. "What?" she demanded._

_Derek blinked, realizing that he'd been staring at her. "Uh, you've, uh, got chocolate on your chin." It was a lie, but whatever._

"_Oh, do I?" she asked, frowning and wiping at the invisible chocolate on her skin. "Is it gone?"_

_Derek repressed a smirk. This was almost too easy. "Hm, no, still there. Here, let me get it." And before she could protest, he leaned towards her across the kitchen island and kissed her. Her mouth was an odd mixture of cold and hot, tasting deliciously of chocolate. She gave a soft groan and started kissing him back. Her hands traveled to his hair and tangled in it, sending shivers down his spine. Derek hoisted her onto the island counter, his arms wrapping firmly around her waist, her back, her thighs, everywhere. Suddenly, something clanked onto the floor and they froze; one of the spoons had fallen to the floor._

"_Uh," Derek said, pulling away a little bit. "We really—"_

"—_need to continue," Casey gasped, before grabbing him and pulling him close again…._

So it had gone for the last two weeks: a chance encounter in the bathroom, a scheduled meeting in his room after dark, a playful exchange in the hallway closet. Derek had lost count after the first week had gone by. But when they were almost discovered by Marti though (they'd been making out in Casey's room after dinner and she'd wanted to have story time), Casey had asserted him that they had to "have a chat," and so he'd grudgingly agreed to do so. So now they were in their living room; Derek on his recliner and Casey stretched out across the couch. They'd waited until everyone else was out together seeing another family-friendly movie, and then commenced the meeting.

"We need a plan," Casey affirmed, holding up a pencil and a blank sheet of paper.

Derek raised his eyebrows. "A _plan_? Regarding what?"

"Us," she replied, examining the paper and scribbling something down. "I really appreciate all your help with Truman, but I don't think that what we've been doing is going to work if we keep this up. What if someone in the family notices?"

"So we just make-out until we hear the front door slam, and then we stop and pretend that we were fighting," Derek suggested, confused at why it had to be so complicated. He leaned towards her. "Plan's done. Let's test it out."

"Not so fast," she snapped, holding her hand up to block his approach. "The plan is _not_ done. We need to discuss some rules."

"Are you kidding me? Because this is a really sick joke!" Derek flopped back onto his recliner, staring at the ceiling in disbelief.

"I'm not saying that we should, er, stop doing what we've been doing," Casey told him, her face red. "But I think we need some boundaries so that we ensure that no one discovers us."

"I don't know what was wrong with my idea," Derek grumbled to himself, but he sighed and sat up, preparing himself for an evening of very boring, very detailed planning.

_**Casey**_

Casey set down her fork and dabbed her face with her napkin. It was the next day, and she was feeling very pleased with herself. She and Derek had planned out a list of times and places that they absolutely could not… _meet_… together. They'd even had a little time to spare at the end….

"_Ok, so after dinner is off-limits," Derek repeated, nodding. "Can we test it out now?"_

"_Almost," Casey told him, setting down her paper with a satisfied smile. "Repeat all the locations that are acceptable. I want to make sure you know them."_

_Derek groaned. "God, why are you such a keener? We're not even in school."_

"_Fine, then, I'll see you later," she huffed, getting up._

"_Ok, ok. The bathroom, our bedroom, and the kitchen."_

"_Sometimes in the kitchen. Obviously if someone is there, or home at all really, then it's __**strictly **__off limits, seeing as how—"_

_She was interrupted by Derek's mouth. But for once, she didn't mind. It was hard to remember why she was annoyed when his hands played with her hair and his body pressed close to her own._

"How was dinner, sweetie?" her mom's voice asked, pulling Casey out of the memory. She jumped.

"It was delicious!" she exclaimed. Despite the fact that it was a Monday, she'd been in a decent mood all day: Truman had stopped pestering her after getting a beating from both her and Derek. Best of all, though, was that her plan with Derek had been going pretty well. So Casey was feeling quite proud of herself.

Nora grinned, "Well, I know you don't normally like burgers, but after Derek's winning streak I figured that he deserved a treat." She turned to Derek. "What's this, your second winning goal in just two weeks?"

"Yep," Derek said, taking a huge bite out of his third burger. Casey glared at him. He raised his eyebrows at her, smirking. "Hey, you know, Case," he said as he chewed, "normal people eat their burgers with_out_ a fork."

Rolling her eyes, she replied, "Well, cultured people typically wait to speak until they've swallowed their food."

"Mmhm," Derek shrugged, "Looks like you're the freak and I'm a typical guy then." He shoved the rest of the hamburger in his mouth and grinned at her.

Casey made a noise of disgust and threw her napkin on the table, asking, "May I _please_ be excused?"

"Sure, honey," Nora said, shooting Derek a look. He grinned sheepishly and continued chewing.

Casey headed up to her room, selecting a book and laying on her back. She'd already done all of her homework before dinner, so it was the perfect time for a little pleasure reading.

She'd gotten several pages in when her door burst open and her stepbrother waltzed in, shutting the door behind him. Casey gulped, willing her suddenly rapid pulse to slow down.

"Hey, Spacey." Derek came over and flopped onto the bed next to her. "Whatcha reading?"

"Excuse me?" Casey wondered, furrowing her brow in confusion and inching away from him. "Don't you have a pigsty to roll around in or something?"

"Hmmm, no, I figured I'd do that in here. It's unnaturally clean, after all."

"So you've come to spread your disgusting habits to my room, then?"

"Hey, hey, be fair, Case. I brushed my teeth." He winked at her.

Casey rolled her eyes. "Ok, Derek, why are you in here?" She paused, glancing around as if someone might be in the room with them, before hissing, "You _know_ that after dinner is a forbidden time! What do you want?"

"That's a tough one," he paused to consider for a moment. "But I'd have to say… _you_."

Casey sucked in her breath, feeling her eyes widen and her limbs stiffen as she comprehended his words. Slowly her eyes met Derek's; he was smirking at her, his head propped up on his elbow. "But… the plan…" she breathed at last.

"I tried sticking to it," Derek sighed, leaning back and rubbing his temple with his palms. "But then when you walked out of the shower this morning, it nearly killed me."

"Derek! Manners, please!"

He turned an innocent look on her. "What? Can _I_ help it that you're hot?"

She hit him with her book.

"Ow!" he cried, rubbing his head. "Hey, I meant that as a compliment!"

"I know, doofus. But I thought we'd—we'd agreed to hold off on…on… doing anything until the specified times. Can't you wait until 10:30 tonight?"

"No," Derek grumbled, pouting. "I want to have fun _now_." He leaned over and pressed his lips to her ear, tickling her with his breath.

Casey bit back a chuckle. "So do I." She shook herself, and got back on track. "But we have to be careful. Remember when Marti almost saw us? We have to be careful about—about—_this_!" She gestured between the two of them, pushing him away and sticking her nose back in the book, pretending to read.

"What about '_this_'?" Derek asked, tugging a lock of her hair. She swatted his hand away. "What now?" he groaned. "I'm not even allowed to touch you?"

"No. We've got to remain professional until the appointed time." Derek raised his brows, staring at her, and she swallowed, feeling uncomfortable.

After a moment, he rolled his eyes. "Come on, Case, you know you're attracted for my complete and utter manliness. You won't be able to resist for long."

Snorting, Casey gave a short laugh. "In your fantasies, maybe."

"I seem to recall that they were _your_ fantasies, actually."

Setting her book aside, Casey pursed her lips in annoyance, narrowing her eyes. "And _I_ seem to recall punching you when you kept bringing that up. Do you want me to do it again?"

"Well, if you're into that sort of thing. I'd be willing to experiment."

Casey huffed and whacked Derek with her pillow. "You're impossible, Derek Venturi."

"Thanks." He laughed, swatting her right back with the other pillow. "It's a compliment I get a lot."

They continued to rough-house with the pillows for a few moments, laughing all the while. Derek grabbed the pillow from her, holding it away from her. She leaned across him on the bed, reaching for them. He smiled up into her face, propping himself up on his elbow and pressing his mouth to her own. She gave a little gasp at the sudden contact, her eyes fluttering closed as she felt his mouth open under hers.

The pillow fight was forgotten as they continued. Casey's heart pounded in her ears as she cupped his face in her hands, tasting him with her tongue and shivering as his hands slid under her shirt, caressing the bare skin of her back, before starting to tug her shirt off. Casey paused, trying to concentrate enough to decide whether or not they should continue. He'd locked the door… but someone might knock and become suspicious as to why they were both barred in her room together. But then Derek's hands started roving over areas that they hadn't yet explored, and Casey forgot to think.

"Casey," he whispered against her lips, and she pulled his shirt off. Her hands gripped the lean muscles on his back, her fingers digging into his skin as Derek's mouth went to her neck, her chest, her stomach in a trail of kisses….

A distant door slam startled them as his hands brushed against her panties line. Casey groaned in annoyance at the sudden pounding in her chest from her nerves over being discovered.

"What the hell was that?" Derek said through gritted teeth.

"There _are_ other people in this house," Casey grumbled, equally annoyed. "Unfortunately."

Derek was grim for a second, before glancing back down at her and smirking. "Wanna finish this later?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Sounds good," she replied, her voice coming out huskier than she meant it to, and Derek groaned. "10:30 ok? My room?"

"If you want me to _survive_ that long, you can't talk like that," he said.

"Sorry," Casey replied, clearing her voice. "I can't help it, either, you know."

"I know, I know," he reached down and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. "You're beautiful," he whispered suddenly.

Casey felt her face grow red. "I'm sure you say this to all your girlfriends." It was a topic of insecurity that they still hadn't addressed.

Derek was silent a moment, the ghost of a smile still on his lips. "_When_ I kissed those other girls, I never meant it." He brushed a kiss onto her forehead. "No other girl makes me want to pummel her ex-boyfriend." A dark glare flitted across his eyes, then faded as he turned his gaze upon her again. "No other girl makes me unsure if I want to kiss her, scream at her, or tease her." Casey felt a smile start on her face. "And no other girl has gotten under my skin like you have, so that I find myself surprisingly enjoying it."

"You're—you're just saying that," she whispered, although she was starting to believe him.

Derek laughed softly and chucked her chin. "No way, McDonald." He held up his hand, and she saw with some surprise that it was shaking. "See what you've done to me?"

The smile bloomed on her face, and she reached up to kiss him passionately. When they pulled away, he was smiling down at her, his eyes crinkling with affection. "To hell with the plan," she cried. "I'm not waiting until 10:30."

He raised his eyebrows. "Wait, hold it!" He put on a face of disbelief. "Did Casey McDonald just blow off one of her own plans for her obnoxious stepbrother?"

Her grin widened. "I learned from the best," she whispered, before pulling his lips back to her own.

THE END.

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A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this story! I'm going to miss it. I might add a little epilogue as a treat for all of you lovely readers. ;)

Anyway, I had a great time writing this fic, and I loved each and every one of your reviews. I really do appreciate the feedback. Thanks guys! *hugs all around*


	11. Epilogue

A/N: Hope you all enjoy this little addition to "The Problem with Rumors." Think of it as the "special features" portion of this fic. :P

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Epilogue 

(and a sort of Prologue, too)

_**Marti**_

"Hey, Space Case, give me a hand in here, will you?" The voice belonged to Marti's oldest brother, Derek. Smiling to herself, Marti turned off the flashlight within the tent that she had been playing in. It was time to play "spy."

"What is it, Derek?" Casey responded, her voice sounding annoyed. Marti put a hand to her ear, listening.

"I need you to, uh, help me with this paper," Derek said, a little too loudly. Marti repressed a snicker, knowing full well that Derek needed no such help.

Casey's voice dropped to a whisper, but Marti had excellent hearing (not to mention, she had an imaginary friend to help her out in situations like these!). "Derek, be careful!" Casey hissed. "Do we even know where Marti is?" Marti let out a tiny snort at the question.

"She's probably in her room, sleeping," Derek drawled. "Figuring that it's almost eleven at night."

"I know, I know…" Casey sighed, and Marti made a tiny peephole in the tent door with her finger. She watched as Casey took Derek's hand and pulled him into her bedroom. The door closed behind them.

Marti jumped out of the tent and rushed to the door. Yep. She definitely heard _kissing_ noises. Perfect. Her plan had worked after all. She grinned to herself, rubbing her hands together. It had been tough, but thanks to Marti's itsy bitsy nudge in the right direction, things were looking great between the oldest pair of stepsiblings. Marti smiled to herself as the kissing noise intensified, remembering back on the fateful dinner conversation that had started her newest craze: matchmaking.

**Three months earlier**

"Guess what, everyone!" Casey cried, bounding down the stairs in excitement.

The rest of the family looked up from their places at the dining room table. "What is it, Casey?" Nora asked, smiling.

"I _officially_ have a boyfriend!"

Casey clapped her hands, and Marti asked, "Well, who is it?"

"Truman!" Casey chirped, grinning.

There was a loud noise from Derek, and suddenly milk was everywhere. He'd taken a huge gulp right before Casey announced her boyfriend's name, and had sprayed it everywhere.

"De-REK!" Casey screeched, dabbing her shirt with her napkin. "That's disgusting!"

"Wait, you don't mean Truman _French_, do you?" Derek demanded, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

"As a matter of fact, I do." Casey sniffed, dabbing once more at her shirt before setting down her napkin.

"What's wrong with Truman Fudge?" Marti asked, totally confused. She raised an eyebrow at Derek's odd behavior.

"It's Truman _French_, sweetie," Casey corrected, "And nothing is wrong with him. I don't know what Derek's problem is, but it can't be my choice of boyfriend."

Marti saw Derek roll his eyes. "Whatever, later gang." He got up and left the table, no doubt heading to his room.

As the rest of the family finished their meal, Marti tilted her head, thinking. She silently snuck out of her chair and headed up to Derek's room.

"What's wrong, Smerek?" she asked her brother, climbing onto his bed next to him. He was looking at a magazine about video games, but she didn't think he was really reading it because he had it upside down.

"Nothing, Smarti," he smiled at her, tickling her stomach. "I just don't understand why Casey would want to be with a guy who's not very nice, is all."

"Oh." Marti hid a smirk (something she had picked up from a certain relative). She understood now. Derek was only _pretending_ not to care, but from the way his eyebrows furrowed, or how he kept tapping his finger on his bedspread without realizing it…. Marti understood. She understood very well.

**The next day after that**

"And then, Scott was like, 'Your hair is really pretty like that.' I _died_, Casey, I really did!" Marti made a face at the way Casey's best friend was screeching up a storm. Emily and Casey were watching movies on the couch downstairs, eating popcorn and gossiping as they did so.

"Scott's a great guy," Casey responded, nibbling at a kernel of popcorn. "Isn't he friends with Truman?"

Hidden from view underneath the dining room table, Marti noticed Emily roll her eyes and say, "I don't really know. Hey, the movie's over. Can you go grab _Clueless_ from your room? I haven't seen that movie in forever, and I'm in the mood for some Paul Rudd action now." Emily paused, her eyes glazing over and a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Scott looks a lot like Paul Rudd, you know…"

Casey laughed and went upstairs to find the movie. Marti knew that she had a very small amount of time to act, so she leapt up from her hiding place and bounced onto the couch next to Emily.

"Hi!" she grinned, staring at Emily.

"Hi," Emily replied, smiling and looking a little weirded out. "How's it going, Marti?"

"Great!" Marti piped back, eating a piece of popcorn, before asking, "Did you know that Casey likes Derek?"

Emily had been reaching for more popcorn, but upon hearing this piece of news, she knocked the entire plastic bowl onto the floor. "_WHAT?!_" she gasped, her eyes growing huge and her mouth dropping open. A piece of popcorn fell out of it, but Emily didn't even notice.

"Yeah, I read it in her secret diary," Marti said, eating some popcorn off the floor as though nothing odd was going on at all. "But you can't tell her about this conversation, because she'll kill me if she finds out I read it."

"I—I won't…." Emily was spacing out, looking like she'd just learned that Disney Princesses were real (which they obviously were).

"Ok, great!" Marti scooped up one last handful of popcorn before skipping up the stairs to her room. She passed by Casey on the way up (and got her hair ruffled), and was able to hear Casey's query about the spilled popcorn. Emily sounded nervous as she made up some excuse about dropping the bowl. Marti smirked to herself; there was no way that _Emily_ would be able to keep the secret. The news would be all over the high school by Monday morning….

_**Present day**_

Sure that Casey and Derek were, in fact, kissing in Casey's room, Marti pulled her ear away from the door and smiled to herself, a mischievous glint back in her eye. Things had all gone according to plan.

She cocked her head and thought for a moment, wondering what her next plan of action would be. Casey and Derek seemed to be going strong a month into their "secret" relationship, so Marti was _obviously_ meant to be a matchmaker!

Hearing a noise from the attic, Marti smiled. _I bet Edwin needs some help securing a new girlfriend_, she thought to herself, letting her eyes fall on Lizzie's closed door. _Perfect_.

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A/N: Ok, that's the back story of how the rumor actually got started! Hope you liked this little addition. Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing! Don't forget to review this epilogue and let me know what you think. :)


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